


Drinks

by bell0na



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 03:24:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bell0na/pseuds/bell0na
Summary: Anon requested: Hey friend when you have time could you do a fiction where reader is Gabe’s daughter and they fight so she goes out with her bf and she gets super drunk and gabe finds her and is really mad because he was so worried but also relieved (fluffy ending?)You do have a BOYFRIEND in this story - at least, it written as such.





	Drinks

“I’m not a kid anymore dad!” You shouted, throwing your hands up as you turned back to face him, glaring, “I can take care of myself!”

Your father just stood there, face neutral, but his eyes told another story. You father was Gabriel. The Archangel. The one that people read about in the Bible, and pray to almost every day. Normally, he was a pretty easy going guy, always happy to pull a prank or two with you or sit and chat. Today though, he was just being unreasonable.

 

“___,” He began, resting his hands' palm down on his knees where he sat, “You can’t. That demon almost got a hold of you, it almost killed you-”

“But it didn’t! I’m alive, and fine! See, look.” You made a big show of pinching your arm, you even smacked your thigh so he would hear the sound of solid matter, “I’m fine!”

“But you wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t gotten there in time.” HIs eyes were colored with anger, it was finally starting to seep into his voice too.

“I would have been fine, Dad, I was in the salt ring, I had an exorcism ready of the tip of my tongue, I know what I’m doing!”

Your fathers face screwed up in anger for a moment, his fists clenched and a strong breeze found it’s way into the living room where the two of you stood fighting. He was mad enough to let his powers seep through - that notion terrified you. You felt your stomach drop, but you stood your ground, raising your chin.

“____. You were toast. After that fiasco, I’m not even sure I should let you out of this house again!”

His true voice was seeping through now too, it almost hurt your ears - like rock music that was just a little too loud - but as an archangel’s daughter, you could handle it.

“What, are you going to use your powers to pin me here?”

“I just might.”

Your vision blurred for a moment, seeing red. Who did he think he was? Thinking he could tie you here under this God-forsaken roof, you were his daughter. You were an independent woman, you knew how to take care of yourself no matter what trouble came your way. Maybe that’s why this little sentence of his pissed you off to no end. You stormed out of the room, not bothering to look back when the wind started to whip around your hair. You grabbed your cell phone and your car keys on your way out the door, not even bothering to close it behind you so he could watch you drive away.

Your grip on the steering wheel was turning your knuckles white it was so tight, your breathing was still heavy. It took a solid ten minutes of just driving before you could calm down enough to pull out your cell phone and dial the number of your boyfriend, Charlie.

It rang three times before he picked up, “Hey babe.”

“Charlie? You busy?” You said, turning on your blinker and pulling over to the side of the road.

He laughed a little, “For you? Nah, I’ve got nothing goin’ on here. Just watching Die Hard.”

“Meet me at the Blue Moon Tavern. You know the one?”

His voice changed from amused to concerned, “Yeah. I know it. Babe, are you okay? You sound a little–”

“I’m fine! Why does everyone think I’m not?!”

“Woah! Woah, okay. Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

“You better.” You grumbled, hanging up and throwing your phone into the passenger seat. You rested your head on the top of the wheel for a minute, just breathing. If you stayed there for too long, your dad might decide to forgo the whole secrecy thing and just poof in there.

That was the last thing you needed right now.

~

Your boyfriend waltzed into the Tavern about ten minutes after you did, but you hadn’t bothered to wait for him. You were sitting at the bar, downing shot after shot as people cheered you on. You were racing this other guy to see who could down fifteen shots of vodka fastest. You won, as you slammed down your last shot he was only on his seventh.

“Amatur.” You grinned, “Please, next time at least try?”

The crowd around you cheered, and you stood on a shaky leg and gave a little bow, daring someone else to step forward. That was when your boyfriend jumped in and stole the stool next to you.

“Babe!” Your face lit up as you tackled him in a hug, “You made it!”

“Yeah, course I did. How many drinks have you had?” He asked, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking you over carefully.

You giggled, making a show of counting on your fingers, “At least… Oh, I don’t know. I lost count after people started buying me shots.” Your boyfriend shook his head and pulled out his own cell phone, sending a quick message before his attention was focused entirely on just keeping you safe before you could get home.  

~

You woke up the next morning with a groan, throwing your arm over your head in an attempt to block off the sunlight filtering in. THere were birds chirping, sunlight, any other day it would have been a great morning. But mornings like that suck when you’re hungover. Majorly.

“Thank father.” You heard a voice breathe.

Reluctantly, you rolled over to look at the voice, forcing your eyes to open and look at you Father.

That brought another groan from your lips and you slammed your pillow over your head. Bad move, your head throbbed and you lurched up, diving for the trashcan at the other side of the room as you proceed to lose whatever was left in your stomach.

You stayed kneeling there for a long moment before anything new happened. There was a gentle hand raking through your hair, holding it out of the path of your vomit. You groaned again, spitting one last time into the trashcan. A hand holding a glass of water appeared at the edge of your vision. You took it, sitting back and taking a small sip of the liquid, relishing in the cool feeling of it washing away the aftertaste lingering in your mouth.

After another minute you looked up, holding a shaky hand up to hide your eyes from the sun. Gabriel kneeled next to you, expression disapproving, but his eyes were alight with sympathy, “Do you want me to heal you?”

You moved to shake your head, but thought better of it at the last second and answered verbally, “No. Well, yes, but don’t, I kinda earned this.” You offered a weak smile, voice scratchy from last night.

“Dad, look, I’m –”

He raised a hand, “Me too. I shouldn’t stand over your shoulder so much. I’m your father, not the angel on your shoulder,” You raised an eyebrow, “Okay, I’m still the angel on your shoulder. But I need to lay off.”

“Yeah, you do.” You smiled. He offered a hand and helped you up slowly and over to your bed, where you carefully laid down. You father snapped his fingers, and a plate of eggs and oatmeal appeared, hot, steaming, and actually very tempting.

You carefully took the plate from his hands, taking small, slow bites as you tried to remember what it felt like to be human again.

It was a few minutes of silence before you spoke again, “Hey, Dad?”

“ Hey ____?”

“…  love you.”

He smiled, reaching out and ruffling your hair, “Love you too, kiddo.”


End file.
